


You Win

by willyouboy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Always Female Castiel, Bunker Fluff, Castiel in the Bunker, Castiel/Dean Winchester One Shot, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Fallen Castiel, Female!Cas, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Genderbending, Genderswap, Grumpy Castiel, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Men of Letters Bunker, One Shot, Protective Dean Winchester, Rule 63, Sharing a Room, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1951899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willyouboy/pseuds/willyouboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas gets hurt during a hunt that Dean wasn't on and Sam drives her back to the bunker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Win

He meets them down in the garage. 

Sam gets out of the impala first then walks around to the passenger side. Dean’s already headed towards it, jaw tight. Once Sam’s got the door open he looks over to Dean with an apologetic smile saying, “The meds haven’t kicked in yet.”

“Did you wrap it?” 

He’s already shouldered his way past Sam and he sees her.

She’s got a bare foot up on the dashboard and she’s got Sam’s jacket laid over her lap. She’s frowning up at him from beneath her messy dark bangs, arms folded over her stomach. She looks annoyed more than anything. 

“She wouldn’t let me touch it,” Sam pipes up from behind Dean. 

Dean sends her a look, the ‘why the hell not?’ plain on his face. It only makes her press her lips together and keep up the stare down. Riding with her for half an hour must’ve been hard to say the least. He decides to let Sam off the hook for a moment.

Dean looks over his shoulder at him, “Ya mind setting up her room?”

“Sure thing.”

When Dean turns back to Cas she’s looking at Sam leaving, the defiance in her face has softened, she almost looks a little worried. It takes a minute for Dean to piece things together. He doesn’t say anything until Sam’s completely gone though and Cas has gone back to staring him down. 

“Cas, you’re gonna need the space, okay?”

“I’ll stay on my side.” She sounds like she’s making a promise. 

Dean can’t help smiling then.

“Let’s get you out of there.”

She looks a bit wary before she unfolds her arms and puts Sam’s jacket on. Dean crouches by the door and waits. Cas keeps her left leg as straight as possible as she turns in the seat toward Dean. He can see her start to bite at her bottom lip as she stares down at her ankle, watches herself maneuver it over the dashboard and carefully lower it besides Dean’s knee outside the car. Her jeans are covering her ankle as well as her heel. Usually she has them cuffed. 

“Let’s see,” it’s the only warning she gets before he’s holding the ball of her foot in his palm.  
She flinches but doesn’t withdraw. Her toes curl just the slightest. 

With his free hand Dean cautiously pushes up the bottom of her jeans, goes extra slow when he gets to her ankle. He can tell that Cas is holding her breath. He holds edges of the leg-hole of her jeans away from her as he slowly folds them. Before he’s rolled it up as high as he’d like he can see that she’s swollen, no doubt about it. “Can you roll it? Make a circle?” It’s probably not a break, but still. . .

In the palm of his hand he feels her move her foot in an arc and above him and she makes that same little gasp people do when they drop something they didn’t mean to.  
“That’s okay,” he rushes, letting her go. He looks up and her blue eyes are doe wide and she’s chewing her lip, lets it go once she sees Dean looking. He looks away, turns around even, still crouched. “Hop on.”

There’s nothing for a moment, but he waits. 

Eventually, she steps out of the car with her good foot then scoots forward on the seat. Dean scoots back a little but she still hesitates when she reaches for his shoulders and climbs carefully onto his back. He lets her take her time to get comfortable before he reaches back then slides his hands forward and under her knees as he stands. He hip bumps the car door closed. 

As he walks away from the impala he can’t help noticing that her right leg swings a little but her other leg is pretty stiff. He rubs that knee with his thumb as they make their way out the garage and into the bunker. He’s in no hurry as he makes his way up the couple steps and into the hallway. 

Sam must’ve left the lights on for them.  
Everything’s lit up to the bedrooms. Dean almost takes them into his before he remembers then turns and walks them into Cas’s room instead. The bedside lamp is already on and there’s a roll of bandage on the night stand. 

He walks them over to it and turns around, lowers himself bit by bit until she eases herself off of him, her hands coming off his shoulders last. 

He turns to face her once he hears her move further onto the bed. He stays standing in the space between her shins and sees her looking around the room, almost like it’s foreign. Then again, it has been a while since she’s slept in here. The bed’s all made, everything is in its place except for a few things on her dresser like a couple hair ties, a brush, random nicknacks she’s picked up from her walks with Sam. Dean’s kind of surprised that the plant in the windowsill is still green. He forgets what it’s supposed to be though, if something’s supposed to actually bloom or not.  
She’s told him before.

When he looks back to her she’s got her eyes on him and she’s a bit hard to read. Her head is tilted to the side and she’s leaned back onto her elbows. Dean breaks the silence, “It still hurt?”  
He reaches toward her heel and she’s watching him the whole time. She tries rolling it again once his palm is cupping her heel. She frowns but is able to make a full circle.

“We’ll wait a few before I wrap it.”

Cas just nods absently, gaze still on her ankle. She looks like she wants to shake it off.

“Sam said you did good out there.” He sends a smile her way, lets a little pride slip in it.

“How long do I have to stay in here?” 

Her expression hasn’t changed, is still the same unsatisfied slight frown. It’s really the wrong time to chuckle but Dean can’t help it, “Aw, Cas . . .”

Like he expected, she doesn’t quite find it funny. She even taps his leg firmly with her good foot. He catches it and squeezes it with his free hand, still smiling. “I’m right next door.”

“How long?”

“A couple weeks at least.”

And that’s definitely not what she wants to hear. The furrow in her brow gets deeper and he can tell that she’s doing that bad habit of biting the inside of her cheek. Her eyes are a little hopeful though when they flick up to Dean, “Sam said it wasn’t broken.”

“Well yeah but, it’s sprained Cas.”

She doesn’t look impressed.

He lets go of the foot that’s fine and picks up the rolled bandage. She sighs on the bed and lifts her ankle a bit for him. He kneels with a slight exhale, his knees don’t exactly feel great on the hard floor. Better get this over with. He takes his hand away from her sprain and uses it to help unravel the cloth.

“Alright, this part’s gonna suck . . .” He says it under his breath.

He doesn’t look up at her because he’s sure it’d probably make him chicken out. 

It’ll hurt her less if he does it well the first time so the first touch to her actual ankle is gentle but secure. She stiffens but doesn’t make a sound as he begins wrapping, adding pressure as he goes. The poor thing’s staying perfectly still as he works. She’s just gonna end up making herself sore if she hasn’t already. Good thing she’ll have plenty of time to rest. 

Speaking of, “You can’t walk around on this. You’ve gotta keep it up.”

He tucks in the last piece as he checks on her. 

Cas has raised up on her elbows a bit more and her face is more considerate than upset now, “Okay.”

“The meds kick in?”

She waggles her foot haltingly, “I think so.”

Dean just nods and gives her heel a squeeze before he stands up. She stays where she is, eyes on him the whole time. Her lips are parted and she’s still a mess from the hunt. Her jeans are dirty and her hair is down, tangled for sure as it bunches at her shoulders. He should’ve got her cleaned up first. She looks beat though, so maybe first thing tomorrow. For now he’s gotta get her ready for bed. 

He walks across the room to the dresser and opens up a drawer that’s full of oversized t-shirts, all hand me downs or thrift finds. Dean ends up pulling out an old college shirt that’s had the collar cut off. It covers both of Cas’s shoulders most of the time. He lays it over his arm and finds that Cas has already taken Sam’s jacket off and is working on the buttons of her flannel. Her eyes are on the buttons when she speaks, mumbles really. 

“I’d stay on my side.”

“Sweetheart, you flail.”

She looks up, indignant, one button left to go. Dean just raises a brow, begging her to deny it. She must figure there’s no use trying because she focuses back on getting undressed. Dean waits until she gets down to her bra and jeans. She’s got ‘em unzipped and is trying to shimmy while keeping her legs as straight as possible. Of course she won’t ask for help, not even when she somehow gets her pants gathered down around her knees at the edge of the bed and she just sits there for a second.

“Here.” He hands her the sleep shirt then bends over her ankle. He steadies her foot by flattening his hand against the bottom of it, uses his other hand to take docile tugs downward as he pinches the bottom of her jeans. He shifts his hold inch by inch in a circle as he gets her pants down past her heel and over the wrapping. He can feel her looking at him the entire time until he’s done. 

With one pant leg off he pulls off the other one for her just because. He balls them up and gets her flannel and undershirt while he’s at it and dumps them in the hamper in the closet. He goes back to the bed to get Sam’s jacket and she’s just sitting up and watching him as he heads for the door, ankle raised and not touching anything.  
“I’ll be back.” He leaves the door open behind him. He’s not going far, just to his room. He’s gone maybe five minutes, tops. 

He tries not to be too rough with his armchair as he wheedles it out of his room, a few steps down the hall then through her door. When he looks to her he sees that she’s at least propped her foot onto the bed now, has repositioned herself so that her back’s against the headboard. 

Dean greets her with a grin, the faint lines by his eyes showing up, and hoists the chair deeper into the room, sets it down right next to the bed.


End file.
